


this moment is a good thing

by manamune



Series: all that it takes [1]
Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: And a little bit of angst, Awkward Kissing, Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining, Post-debut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 21:09:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11239260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manamune/pseuds/manamune
Summary: Now: Guanlin’s lips are on his, rough and chapped, and Jihoon’s thoughts are split betweenI should offer him some chapstickandthis is our maknae, what the hell am I doing?





	this moment is a good thing

Guanlin kisses him backstage after their first concert, and Jihoon’s life begins spinning out of control.

The thing is—Jihoon knows exactly what Guanlin is going to do before he does it. Guanlin is a good head and a bit more taller than him, and he’s awkward and gangly and fumbles with Jihoon’s jacket before he even begins to lean in. Another few moments pass uncomfortably as he moves closer and closer. And then there’s a solid second where Guanlin just stands there, slumped over Jihoon, as if waiting to see he’ll move back.

He doesn’t.

Minutes before: Jinyoung was hanging off of Jihoon’s arm, laughing in his ear, and Jihoon was laughing too at something Daehwi said. Then Daehwi grabbed Jinyoung and they ran off together, probably to pester their other hyungs. Guanlin slipped close while Jihoon was standing alone, blanketed in the darkness of the low light, soaking in the feeling of post-performance and the sound of their fans still cheering from the other side of the curtain.

Now: Guanlin’s lips are on his, rough and chapped, and Jihoon’s thoughts are split between _I should offer him some chapstick_ and _this is our maknae, what the hell am I doing?_

Guanlin’s hands are huge, which Jihoon has noticed before, but it’s a thousand times more apparent when those huge hands are on Jihoon’s cheeks. Cupping his face, angling his head, and Jihoon absently wonders where Guanlin learned to kiss like this; nervous, but determined. Jihoon’s head spins with the idea that Guanlin so clearly has a purpose here, and that purpose is to kiss him.

Jihoon’s own hands fly to Guanlin’s shoulders, tucking him close, and he feels like a fool when Guanlin pulls back at the same time, lips bright red with some of Jihoon’s lip tint.

“What are you two doing?” Jisung calls, and Jihoon jerks back when he hears their leader’s voice. “Hyung is going to take us out to dinner. Don’t keep him waiting.”

In the car to the restaurant, Jihoon sits squished in between Woojin and Jinyoung. Guanlin is perched on Woojin’s other side, head lolling against the window and eyes shut. He looks peaceful, happy, and most of all, unconcerned. Jihoon has no idea if Guanlin’s heart is beating as fast as his, so fast that he’s afraid Woojin, ever-perceptive, is going to be able to hear it among the quiet chatter of their hyungs.

Jihoon slumps against his seat, shoving his face against Jinyoung’s side, and tries to forget how horribly _right_ it felt to be held and kissed by his dongsaeng.

 

 

Jihoon is lucky, because when they were drawing roommates the first night they arrived in the dorms, he narrowly missed out on having to room with Guanlin. He was apprehensive about rooming with him at the time, because he once heard that Guanlin snored sometimes and stayed up until weird hours, and now he knows his premonition that he absolutely cannot room with Guanlin was right.

He’s able to spend most of his time for the next twenty-four hours locked up in his room with Woojin, though halfway through the afternoon the other boy slips on his shoes with Daehwi and they go back to their company for a few hours. Without anyone to chat with, Jihoon curls up on his bed with a bag of chips at his side and browses internet forums to see what things people are saying about him. 

He doesn’t even feel bad about spending his only day off in bed, alone, because reading fan comments always makes him smile. He’s so engrossed in one girl’s story about how he called out to her once, and how happy it made her, that he doesn’t hear the door opening.

Jihoon goes through a silent moment of mourning. At least he was able to avoid this conversation for a good twenty-four hours. He shuts his laptop and turns to Guanlin, expecting him to have his head down in the way he always does when he’s embarrassed, but Guanlin is standing there like everything is totally normal.

“We’re going out for dinner. Daniel hyung asked me if you wanted to come, since you haven’t left your room in a day,” Guanlin says, in the same stilted voice he always uses. 

Like everything is totally normal.

Jihoon blinks, throat dry, and Guanlin stares back like he’s grown another head. 

“Hyung?”

“Um.” Jihoon scrambles to get off the bed, willing his face not to flush. Don’t blush. Don’t act like you were waiting for Guanlin to talk about he cupped your face like it was something precious—definitely don’t act like you want to do it again. “Yeah, sure. Let me get changed, okay?”

“Sure,” Guanlin says easily, then leaves Jihoon’s room, shutting the door behind him. It takes Jihoon a full minute to actually get started on changing, because his skin still feels like it’s sweltering under Guanlin’s eyes.

It’s awful, because dinner is completely normal, and Jihoon feels like an idiot for noticing every time Guanlin’s elbow brushes against his or every time their feet accidentally touch underneath the table. It’s so natural, falling back into the hyung-dongsaeng relationship they’ve built up over the past few months, where Guanlin teases him and Jihoon scolds him before teasing him back. Except, underneath it all, unconcealed in the anxious twist of Jihoon’s stomach, he’s left wondering if it really was nothing. If maybe, kissing his hyungs is something Guanlin does to everyone, or kissing just isn’t a big deal to him like it is to Jihoon.

Guanlin lays his hand on Jihoon’s thigh and grins at some ridiculous joke Seongwoo is telling. Jihoon laughs as well, because Seungwoo is, as usual, hilarious; but then Guanlin turns a little, his smile landing on Jihoon instead, and Jihoon can feel his face fall.

There’s a bit of sauce on the corner of Guanlin’s lips. And, without thinking, Jihoon grabs his napkin and reaches out to wipe it off. Softly, because Guanlin’s skin is sensitive and Jihoon doesn’t want to cause any redness.

“Oh.” Guanlin’s smile grows bigger. “Thanks, hyung.” Jihoon’s hand pauses mid-air, his gaze fixed on Guanlin’s lips. Those lips kissed him once.

Jihoon imagines what it would be like if Guanlin leaned over and kissed him right here. Jihoon imagines what it would be like if _he_ leaned over and kissed Guanlin.

Guanlin turns back to Seongwoo, tilting his head with laughter, as if he didn’t feel a shock when Jihoon’s fingers brushed against Guanlin’s skin.

Jihoon knows he’s very steadily spiraling into _totally fucked_ territory.

 

 

Two weeks pass. For a while, Jihoon really does forget about the strange, unspoken kiss him and Guanlin shared backstage. They’re both swamped with schedules, some together but often apart. Guanlin tends to go wherever Daehwi goes, for the convenience of translation, and so Jihoon is paired with Daniel or Woojin with the purpose of drawing in more fans. Jihoon’s been on TV ever since he can remember talking, but he’s still not used to being on variety shows like clockwork.

When they are together, it’s usually for performances; and frankly, Jihoon is too exhausted to spend energy wondering what’s going through Guanlin’s mind. There’s a point where things are so totally normal between them that Jihoon assumes he dreamed the whole thing and this is his brain’s way of telling him to come to terms with his less-than-platonic feelings for Guanlin.

But then, sometimes, Jihoon catches Guanlin staring at him out of the corner of his eyes, soft and always with a wry smile, and Jihoon can feel the kiss again. There’s no way his imagination is that vivid.

For the first time in awhile, they’re all attending a variety show together. They sit in height order because the host thinks it’s funny, so Jihoon is at the unfortunately short end while Guanlin sits as the tallest. The host laughs about how Guanlin grew a good centimeter over the course of Produce 101; Minhyun shrugs, looking like a fond older brother, and Jihoon sulks about how he stopped growing last year. 

After things settle down, they move onto the question-and-answer period. Jihoon dreads these types of shows, because there’s always something inevitably embarrassing about him that’s blurted out by one of his hyungs. He can’t even complain, because it’s his fault for telling them in the first place.

His death this time comes in the form of a question to Jisung: “As the oldest member, have you had to work out any rifts in the group?” They all laugh, because pretty much all their fights have been about things like what food to order or whether Daniel’s hair looks better blonde or pink.

But Jisung is too nice, too good at playing the crowd, and he answers very seriously, “Until lately, no. But Jihoonie and Guanlinnie have been awkward lately, so maybe I should try? Is that what I’m supposed to do as leader?” It’s funny because they all know Jisung is a good leader, and the audience knows that too; it’s funny because Jihoon and Guanlin are supposed to be close, and the revelation is a total reversal of what everyone thinks of them.

Or, at least, it’s supposed to be funny. When the cameras turn off, Guanlin immediately walks over to Jihoon and shrugs, as if to say _who cares, we know the truth_. Which isn’t even remotely accurate. Jihoon has no idea what’s going on, and Guanlin’s weirdly passive way of acknowledging what transpired between them isn’t helping.

“Everything is okay, right?” Daehwi asks later, frowning and picking at the lint on Jihoon’s sweater. “If he’s being awkward, it may be because he just doesn’t know how to say something. If you guys need help—”

Jihoon’s face burns. He nudges Daehwi off, pretending to scroll through the messages on his phone. “It’s fine.”

Daehwi glances at him in clear disbelief. “Alright, whatever. I’ll be here if you guys need help.”

Jihoon hadn’t realized that he and Guanlin were being awkward, because their relationship was the same as it always was. Maybe Jihoon isn’t as good of an actor as he thought—but that can’t be it, because he knows he’s a good actor. So how is it that everyone else noticed something happening between them before he did?

He spends the night browsing internet communities again. Specifically ones catered towards him and Guanlin. He isn’t sure what he expected, but they’re going absolutely wild with the supposed knowledge that he and Guanlin aren’t as close as they seem.

Is _that_ true? He and Guanlin are pretty close. Apparently, they’re so close that Guanlin feels like he can kiss him on the lips then go emotionally ghost for the next month.

He tries not to be bitter. A month, and the only thing he’s gotten from Guanlin is a shrug. It feels like a stab to the gut, and he doesn’t even need to wonder why; it’s because Jihoon’s stupid enough to have fallen for him, and now he’s paying the price. 

Then again, the fact they haven’t talked about it maybe indicates they aren’t as close as he believed. The thought just makes him even more miserable.

What’s strange is that the fans all take this distance as a good thing. _Maybe it’s because they’re battling their feelings for each other!_ one writes, and Jihoon gapes at his screen at the accuracy. _It’s probably because Guanlin is too informal around him, and Jihoon just noticed. It’s part of their charm, though!_ another posts in reply. The thread continues like that: fans discussing back and forth all the positive reasons why Jihoon and Guanlin could possibly be avoiding each other.

Jihoon doesn’t know what he’s feeling anymore. Anxiety. Apprehension. Some kind of hope that he immediately shoves down, because this is all just speculation by people who don’t even know them. 

He would know if Guanlin felt something back for him, because he would’ve kissed him again already. He hasn’t, so Jihoon’s already filed the first kiss as a freak of nature. Hopefully now, after that stupid shrug confirmed their kiss wasn’t just a lucid dream, he can move on from this horrible ordeal.

Considering he spends the entire night with his eyes squeezed shut, thinking about how nice it would be for Guanlin’s hands to be on his waist and their mouths to be pressed together again—moving on doesn’t sound very realistic right now.

 

 

Jinyoung slams his palm down on the desk in front of Jihoon. Jihoon jumps, shaken out of his daze of reading comments on his instagram. “This is getting ridiculous.”

Jihoon would like to say he has no idea what Jinyoung is talking about, but he does. Ever since Jisung’s admittance of his and Guanlin’s sudden awkwardness on live TV, he feels like the other members have been skirting around both of them, even though their interactions lately have been normal and very solidly platonic.

“What?” 

“You know what.” Jinyoung sighs, head craning forward. He looks very disapproving. It’s a very Daehwi-like stare; they’re rubbing off on each other too much. “I don’t know what’s happening, but he’s sitting in the corner and I’m pretty sure it’s solely because he doesn’t want to sit near you. Daehwi thinks it’s depressing and he won’t stop complaining, so can you just go talk to him?”

Jihoon looks over his shoulder. Guanlin is, in fact, sitting in the corner, and he does look rather depression. Putting aside Jihoon’s internal struggle over how he wants to make out with Guanlin, it hurts to see their maknae looking like an outcast. Regardless of what everyone else thinks, Jihoon still feels nothing but protective love for him.

“Fine,” Jihoon says. He puts away his headphones. “Why couldn’t Daehwi just go up to him if he’s so worried?”

Jinyoung smiles encouragingly, seemingly pleased with Jihoon’s effort into mending their non-existent problems. “You know why.” The answer is because this is Daehwi’s weird way of trying to get Guanlin and Jihoon to make up; except there’s nothing for them to make up about. Guanlin’s already made his stance on their relationship clear, and Jihoon’s fine with it.

He sits down beside Guanlin on the floor, careful to not let their legs touch. It’s a weird thing to be conscious of, legs touching, but lately every single touch between them has made Jihoon dizzy. 

“Hey, Guanlinnie.” Jihoon lays his arms on his knees then lays his cheek on his arms. “Why are you sitting here alone?”

Guanlin turns to him slowly, in the sluggish way that he always moves in. A long time ago, when they first met, Jihoon thought that Guanlin’s awkwardness off-stage was the product of him not knowing Korean. Now, though, he knows it’s just because Guanlin is awkward, period. He’s one of those people that seem too tall and big for their personalities; there’s only a few times Jihoon has thought otherwise, one of those times being when Guanlin kissed him.

Guanlin shifts, spreading his legs out and wiggling his feet. He lifts his hands, then drops them back to his lap, as if he can’t figure out what to do with his body.

“I don’t know,” he says finally, and he sounds so lost that Jihoon is instantly wrapping his arm around his shoulder and hugging him to his side. 

It’s easy to forget that Guanlin is the youngest out of all of them. Not only because he’s the tallest, but comparatively, Daehwi takes the role to heart much more than he does. Guanlin often fades into the background when he’s not speaking, which Jihoon relates to. He’s never thought it to be a bad thing, but maybe it’s made them treat Guanlin a little differently than they would’ve compared to if he drew more attention to himself.

Jihoon presses his lips to Guanlin’s hair, unable to stop himself from frowning. Is that why Guanlin is sitting by himself? Because he feels excluded? God, Jihoon’s whole body aches with the idea.

“It’s okay,” Jihoon says. He doesn’t take his role as Guanlin’s hyung as seriously as Woojin does, but right now, he’ll gladly step outside his comfort zone for him. “Even if you don’t know what’s wrong, it’s okay.”

Guanlin relaxes in his arms. It’s a reversal of how they usually are; since Guanlin is so much taller, he tends to be the one hugging Jihoon, not the other way around. But this is pleasant too. That’s one of the perks of liking someone so much, he supposes—even the things that Jihoon would normally find uncomfortable feel nice.

“I’m not upset,” Guanlin sighs. “Did Daehwi make you come over? Really, I’m not upset...”

Jihoon pouts. “I can’t come over by myself?”

Guanlin raises an eyebrow at him. They sit in silence before Jihoon rolls his eyes, giving in.

“I thought—” he licks his lips, trying to find the words. How does he say that his whole life has been turned upside down by their kiss without acknowledging that they kissed? How can he admit that without seeming like an idiot? “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me.” 

Guanlin sits up slightly. With his back straighter, he’s too tall for Jihoon to hold onto like a baby; instead, Guanlin rests his head on top of Jihoon’s. It’s exactly how they used to cuddle when practicing, so long ago, back when they were still filming Produce 101 and then when they were preparing for their debut.

“That’s silly,” Guanlin says. “Why would I not want to talk to you?” He says it in such a simple way, like it’s obvious: _duh, I always want to talk to you. You’re my friend, hyung._ And Jihoon’s heart burns in a way he didn’t know was possible, for so many reasons.

Because he loves being Guanlin’s friend, because he wants to be so much more, because Guanlin still wants to talk to him, because Jihoon wants to talk to him and kiss him and he knows he can’t.

“I don’t know,” Jihoon lies, laughing softly. “I don’t know. Are you sure you aren’t sulking for a reason?”

Guanlin exhales, breath fluttering over Jihoon’s hair. “I’m okay, hyung. Really.” 

“You’d tell hyung if you were upset about something? If you need anything? Even if it’s just being homesick.” Jihoon pokes one of Guanlin’s skinny arms. Guanlin laughs, rubbing the spot where Jihoon touches.

Jihoon tries to convey something through his words, too, like Guanlin always does; a little note tucked under an innocent sentence, if you want to talk about what happened, I’m here. 

“I will,” Guanlin promises. “I’m just tired.”

By some force of nature, Jihoon finds the courage to kiss Guanlin’s cheek. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, because Jihoon is, even to his friends that he doesn’t want to make out with, a touchy person. He fists his lap when his lips brush over Guanlin’s cheek, and he channels all of the love and care he has for Guanlin into it. 

“If you say so,” Jihoon says. His own face is turning pink. He stands up, holding out his hand for Guanlin, pretending he’s looking for the others. “Let’s not sit in the corner though, okay?”

It feels like a long time before Guanlin says anything. Jihoon is afraid that he’s overstepped whatever invisible boundary they’d set in the past few weeks, but Guanlin takes his hand with a smile.

“‘Kay. Thanks, hyung.”

Jihoon looks over his shoulder at him. He looks so handsome, even when he’s just standing there. Jihoon squeezes Guanlin’s hand, putting on his best smile back.

It’ll be okay, he thinks. He’s okay living like this—it’s hard, sometimes, falling for someone so close. But it’s not that bad, in the end. He still gets to be with him, still gets to hang out with him and have fun. 

“Anytime,” Jihoon chirps. “Let me treat you to ice cream. What flavour do you want?”

Guanlin’s face lights up, and Jihoon tries very, very hard not to think about how they look like they’re on a date while they’re picking out the three flavours Guanlin wants in his cone.

 

  
Jihoon once read that dancing gave an adrenaline rush. He’s not sure if that’s true on a biological level, but it feels true—when he’s on stage, he feels like he can do anything. All the nervousness, all of his natural quietness ebbs away, and all he can think is _this is what I’m meant to do_. 

He smiles at the fans sitting in the front row, by the stage. There’s a girl holding a banner with his face on it, and he gives her a thumbs up. 

“Hyung!” Guanlin wraps his arm around Jihoon’s hips, appearing out of nowhere. Jihoon jumps, and then scowls a little when he realizes that his surprise will probably be recorded on someone’s fancam and be viral by tomorrow evening. Music is still playing in the background, drowned out over the wild screaming of their fans; neither Jihoon or Guanlin have very many lines, though, and it’s not exactly the type of song that requires careful attention. “Look!”

Guanlin procures a pink balloon from behind his back. Jihoon blinks at him, momentarily confused, before Guanlin shoves it into his arms. “For you,” he says sweetly.

Jihoon huffs, pretending to look away. “I’m not an easy boy. You can’t just give me a balloon and expect me to go out with you.” He bites his cheek to hide his smile. 

He can feel Guanlin roll his eyes; just the shift in energy gives it away. “You’re so picky, hyung... I caught this just for you.” He leans forward, back into Jihoon’s personal space. “Please accept my gift.”

Jihoon peeks at Guanlin out of the corner of his eye, and—shit, he looks so cute and breathtakingly gorgeous that Jihoon doesn’t even notice that his one line in the song passes by without him singing before the crowd goes wild at his mistake. Guanlin looks surprised, too, like he didn’t realize that their joking around has that big of an effect on Jihoon.

Jihoon didn’t realize either. And then suddenly the entire force of Jihoon’s feelings for this oblivious boy come back to him.

“You’re silly,” Jihoon comments, shaking his head. He plucks the balloon from Guanlin’s hand. It’s beginning to lose air, and the giant heart on the front looks slightly skewed. “Brat,” he says, kicking him lightly.

Guanlin giggles, grabbing Daniel as he walks by. “Hyung, he called me a brat.”

“You’re both brats,” Daniel says, shaking him off. “Nice balloon, Jihoonie,” he notes, then immediately sings his lines, not missing a beat.

Jihoon promptly ignores them both and goes to cling to Woojin instead. Woojin takes one glance at the balloon attached to Jihoon’s left hand and smirks.

“What?” Jihoon asks.

“Nothing,” Woojin laughs. “Just sing, Jihoon.”

 

  
A week after they conclude their first tour, Guanlin falls ill. Or, to be more specific, Guanlin, Daniel, Seongwoo, Jaehwan, and Sungwoon all fall sick at the same time.

“I have to run out to the store to buy more medicine,” Jisung says. They’re all wearing face masks, the dorm inevitably crawling with germs. Jihoon isn’t sure if the masks are helping, but the idea of falling sick himself doesn’t sound very nice, so he’s taking all the precautions he can. “Woojin-ah, can you come with me? Jihoon, Daehwi, I need you guys to check on Guanlin and Sungwoon again. Minhyunnie is already with Seongwoo, and Jaehwan is napping with Jinyoungie.”

“They’re napping together?” Daehwi frowns. “Jinyoung hyung will get sick.”

“He’ll be fine. It’s been hours since Jaehwan was able to sleep. Don’t wake them up.” Jisung pulls on a scarf. “Come on, Woojin-ah. Give them both medicine if you can.”

Jihoon sighs, finding the box of gloves they’ve been using and pulling on a fresh pair. Daehwi follows suit, wiggling his fingers.

“So... I’ll take Sungwoon hyung and you can take Guanlin?” Daehwi grins. “Great!”

“I didn’t answer,” Jihoon says back blandly. He already knows this fight is useless.

“You don’t need to. Here’s the medicine Guanlin has been taking.” Daehwi passes him a bottle of pills. Each of their members has been taking different types of medicine; Jihoon has no idea how Daehwi can keep track of them all. “Have fun!”

When he enters Guanlin’s room, he’s half-asleep, lying on his side with a little drool on the pillow. Jihoon stands by the door, watching him; he looks so peaceful, on the edge of dreaming. When he’s asleep, Guanlin looks so normal, in the best way possible. There’s no stress about being in a foreign country or having to live up to people’s expectations. Jihoon hesitates, unsure of whether to bother waking him up to give him his medicine, but Guanlin beats him to the decision.

“Hyung,” he groans. “My head hurts...”

Jihoon sighs, making his way to Guanlin’s bed and sitting at the edge. He puts his hand on Guanlin’s forehead. Even through the glove, he can feel how warm he is.

“You have a fever,” Jihoon mumbles.

“I _know_ ,” Guanlin shoots back, sounding every bit like the petulant child that he is. Jihoon grins, setting down the medicine and the glass of water he’s holding onto Guanlin’s bedside table.

“I have water, and medicine...” Jihoon rearranges Guanlin’s sheets so that they’re properly over his shoulders. He wants to coo, Guanlin is so cute; but given the events that have transpired between them lately, that might be a little too weird. “It’s okay, hyung is here.”

“Hyung,” Guanlin whines again, just for the sake of it. Jihoon chuckles and cracks open the bottle of pills.

“Can you sit up?” Guanlin shakes his head. “Come on, you can’t take medicine lying down.”

“I can’t sit up,” Guanlin says, covering his hands with his face. Jihoon’s smile disappears and he sets the pills aside, placing his hand over Guanlin’s.

He waits for Guanlin to say something, but he just lies there, burning up and clearly out of it. Jihoon’s throat feels dry, and a type of anxiety he hasn’t felt in a long time creeps into his chest. 

“How bad is it? Do you need to go to the hospital?” Jihoon asks quietly, in the same way he would talk to a small animal.

Guanlin shakes his head. He grabs Jihoon’s hand, entwining their fingers together, and Jihoon stifles a noise of surprise. 

“Can you—” Guanlin looks at him through his fingers. His eyes are hooded and bloodshot, and it occurs to Jihoon that he has no idea how long it’s been since Guanlin has properly slept. A day, at least, considering that’s when he first started to show symptoms of being sick. “Can you take off the glove, hyung? Please? I want to—I want to feel your hand.”

A thousand things go through Jihoon’s mind, the most prominent one being that _this is the same boy you kissed two months ago, the boy you want to kiss right now, don’t do anything that you’ll regret later_. But, as always, Jihoon’s rational side is silenced under the incessant need he has to make Guanlin smile again, and he peels off the glove on his right hand.

Guanlin grabs his hand again, now bare, and presses it to his cheek, slick with sweat from his fever.

“Is that better?” Jihoon tries to smile.

“Mhm,” Guanlin hums, closing his eyes. His eyebrows relax, and Jihoon’s other hand curls into the fabric of his pants. He wishes he could do more; he wishes he could take Guanlin’s sickness and give it to himself, instead, just because the idea of Guanlin falling ill in a country that isn’t his own, away from his parents and the people who would usually take care of him, hurts.

Jihoon holds his breath for the entire time he sits there, with his palm pressed to Guanlin’s face and his knees touching Guanlin’s elbow. Or, at least, that’s what it feels like. In actuality, he has no idea how long he sits there for. It’s long enough that he’s not sure whether Guanlin has fallen asleep or not.

“Hyung,” he says eventually, slurring out the word. 

“I’m here.” Jihoon brushes Guanlin’s hair back from his forehead. “Are you ready to take your medicine now?”

Guanlin doesn’t answer. Instead, he pushes himself up, resting against the headboard lest he fall over. Jihoon hurries to help him, holding onto Guanlin’s arms until he finds a comfortable position.

“There.” Jihoon pats his head. “I still have your medicine here. Let me...” He reaches for the pills, but Guanlin’s voice makes him stop.

“Jihoon hyung...” Guanlin tilts his head forward, meeting his eyes when Jihoon’s head whips in his direction. “Are you... are you mad at me?”

“What?” Jihoon blurts out, before he realizes how horrible just saying ‘what’ in response to Guanlin’s earnest question sounds. “No, no—why would I be mad at you? Really, Guanlinnie...” He ruffles up his hair. “If that’s what the others are telling you, just ignore them. They just like to gossip.”

Guanlin groans, squeezing his eyes shut, then reopening them, like he can’t decide whether to look at Jihoon or not. The look he has reminds Jihoon of when their ranks were ever announced on Produce 101. Jihoon still doesn’t know what it means—confusion, anxiety, even a little bit of anger—he just looks lost, really.

“It’s not because of...” he trails off. “It’s because I...” And Jihoon knows what he’s talking about even if he doesn’t finish his sentence.

How could he forget? It’s been the thought he falls asleep to since the day it happened.

He swallows the lump in his throat, though, and shakes his head. “I’m not mad. Don’t worry about it right now. You just need to take your medicine.”

“It hurts,” Guanlin says. He sounds angry, and Jihoon quickly reaches for the pills. The last thing he wants is for Guanlin to get worked up and make himself sicker.

“I know, that’s why you need to take the medicine. Please?” He holds it out, along with the glass of water.

Guanlin’s shoulders slump. “It hurts. I want to kiss you so badly, hyung.”

Jihoon pauses. Guanlin stays there, staring at his lap, dead-eyed. He doesn’t say anything after that. Jihoon swallows once, twice, licks his lips, but nothing helps the sinking feeling in his chest that comes with Guanlin’s admittance.

“You have a fever,” Jihoon says slowly, mostly to himself. His hand is shaking as he nudges Guanlin. “Take it, Guanlinnie.”

Guanlin holds out his palm. Jihoon passes him the water and the pills, and doesn’t move until both are safely down his throat and into his system.

“I’m sorry,” Guanlin whispers, and he sounds so absolutely miserable that Jihoon can’t even be upset with him for the awful timing of his confession. Jihoon lowers him back onto the mattress, fluffs his pillow, and tucks him in safely, not allowing himself to think through the motions.

“Get some rest, okay?” Jihoon plays with the ends of Guanlin’s hair, trying every bit to be the caring hyung that he needs. “You don’t need to be sorry.”

Guanlin’s eyes travel from the ceiling to Jihoon’s face. His lips part, each breath coming out with a small, tired wheeze. “Okay, hyung.”

When he gets back out into the living room, Daehwi looks him up and down.

“Jihoon hyung,” he says slowly. “Why are you only wearing one glove?”

Jihoon glances down at his hand. He completely forgot to put it back on. “Oh. Uh, Guanlin-ah wanted to feel something cool against his skin, I guess, so he asked me to take it off. His fever is pretty high.”

Daehwi marches right up to him and puts his hand over Jihoon’s forehead. “I don’t know. You’re pretty warm too.” He grins. “Well, at least you got him to take his medicine. He did take his medicine, right?”

Jihoon inches back, feeling weirdly crowded not only by Daehwi’s touch but his observation about Jihoon’s temperature. 

“Yeah. I think he’s sleeping now.” Jihoon pauses. “Don’t bother him.”

Daehwi crosses his arms. “I won’t. I’m glad you two are getting along again.” He flashes Jihoon a big smile. “Do you want to watch a movie with me?”

Frankly, Jihoon is happy to do anything that doesn’t involve Guanlin, if not only to get his mind off of Guanlin’s words. _I want to kiss you so badly, hyung._ It doesn’t sound real, repeated in his head. He remembers Guanlin’s honest expression, the way his arms hung limp at his sides, like it took all his energy just to speak.

Was it just the fever talking? How long has Guanlin felt that way? Is there a chance, however, small that Guanlin likes him back? It seems so ridiculous, after two months. There’s no way. He lets his gaze fall over the couch, not returning Daehwi’s smile.

“Sure.”

Daehwi claps. “Netflix just got _Wonder Woman_ in! I heard it got good reviews, I’m excited...”

Jihoon spares one last look at Guanlin’s door before Daehwi drags him into the living room and relieves him from his thoughts.

 _There’s no way_ , he tells himself, because if he allows himself to think the opposite, he’s afraid he’ll pass out right there.

 

  
Jihoon sits on the couch, knees tucked to his chest, underneath one of Jisung’s heavy blankets. It’s another day off, which Jihoon spends blissfully doing nothing, as usual; he’s learned these days are best spent lounging around rather than trying to go out. He’ll only get spotted and followed around, and then it just feels like work.

He already knows it’s Guanlin who comes into the living room before he speaks. He’s only just started to get over his illness after a good four days in bed. Out of five that fell sick, Guanlin’s taken the longest to recover, and Jihoon secretly thinks it’s because he has the most stress on his plate. 

“Jihoon hyung,” he calls. “Can I sit with you?”

Jihoon presses his nose to his arm, breathing in deeply. Guanlin rarely says his name directly to him—usually it’s just _hyung_. He’s scared, a little, about what’s going to happen now, but he clears his throat and manages to say something back.

“Sure.” He slips his hands underneath the blanket to hide the way they shake. “This blanket is big.”

Guanlin smiles, all teeth, and shuffles until he’s covered by the blanket. Jihoon’s entire left side is pressed against Guanlin’s right, and it feels incredibly strange to just be sitting here, TV off, side-by-side. 

Thankfully, Guanlin seems to think so too, because he immediately turns his entire body towards Jihoon.

“Hyung,” he starts, but Jihoon exhales and lifts his head, cutting him off.

“Let me speak first.” He holds onto his knees, trying to collect his thoughts and put them into words Guanlin will understand. “I’m not mad at you. I haven’t even been avoiding you. I just—you’re our maknae, Guanlinnie, and my dongsaeng. And even beyond friendship, we’re coworkers.” He prepared this speech all week, but it sounds stupid coming out of his mouth. He licks his lips. “It’s okay if you make a mistake, you know. We can just forget about it.”

The expression Guanlin has takes him by surprise; it’s serious, his eyebrows downturned and his lips pursed. Guanlin very rarely has such a controlled expression. It’s usually blankness or a smile, either-or.

“I don’t want to forget,” Guanlin says. “It wasn’t a mistake.”

“If it wasn’t a mistake, why did we not talk about it sooner?” Jihoon says. He didn’t mean to sound so snappish, and he buries his hands in his hair when he sees Guanlin hesitate to respond. “I mean—you don’t need to feel guilty. It was just a kiss.”

Guanlin bites his lip. Jihoon yearns to reach over, stop himself from breaking into his skin, maybe place his mouth over Guanlin’s if he really needs to occupy his lips that badly. 

“I don’t feel guilty.” Guanlin leans forward. “I just—I think I like you, hyung. Is that bad? I wasn’t sure before, but I... I’m sure now. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Jihoon digs his fingers into his thigh. Don’t give in. You’re the hyung here, don’t give in, even though just the sight of Guanlin’s face whisks his logic and breath away. There’s an infinite number of reasons why this is a bad idea, he reminds himself. He’s barely even touched the tip of the iceberg when it comes to excuses.

“It’s not bad,” Jihoon mumbles. “But it’s not good, either. Even if I—even if I like you back, Guanlin, it’s impossible, okay? We just can’t. In a year, we won’t even be in the same group anymore. And we can’t go around kissing backstage all the time. People will see. Someone will leak it. And—”

Guanlin’s hand shoots out, and he grabs Jihoon’s shoulder, eyes wide. “You like me, hyung?”

Jihoon’s mouth opens, then closes. Did he say that? He sits there useless, shocked by his own words, his skin tingling where Guanlin’s fingers are anxiously brushing against him.

And then Guanlin smiles again. It’s so gentle, full of obvious relief. “I’m so glad,” he sighs. Jihoon wonders whether Guanlin didn’t understand what he sad, or whether he just willfully ignored everything else. It’s probably the latter. “I couldn’t tell. You send a lot of mixed signals.”

Something inside Jihoon snaps, and he bursts out laughing. Because, really, _he’s_ the one sending mixed signals? He wipes his eyes, feeling tears coming on. He’s not even sure what they’re from, other than amazement at how ridiculous this is.

Guanlin tilts his head, but after a second, he laughs too, quietly, shoulders shaking. If anyone walked in, they would think they’ve both gone crazy, with the way they’re sitting so close, laughing over seemingly nothing. Jihoon thinks it himself, and he’s one of the participants.

“You—” Jihoon shakes his head. “You’re such a brat, you know that?” he says, once his excessive laughter has died off, leaving a pleased feeling in its wake, tied closely with the nervousness he can’t shake.

“You’re smiling, so I’m okay with that,” Guanlin says.

Unlike their first kiss, there’s no time for Jihoon to react; Guanlin’s hands move to his hair before he can even register that their lips are touching. Jihoon’s brain instantly shuts down, and he holds onto the front of Guanlin’s shirt. He doesn’t want him to move away, ever, not even for air. Their mouths fit together so well, even better than he remembers, and he sighs contentedly as Guanlin presses forward.

It’s so good. Jihoon thinks he might be drowning, or dreaming, or just flat-out dead. His head grows dizzy until they pull back to breathe. He wants to say something, but then Guanlin kisses him again, and whatever words Jihoon was thinking of saying are tossed out the window.

He curls one hand into Guanlin’s hair, fisting it ruthlessly in a poor attempt to get Guanlin closer. They’re already close as can be, though, chests touching, and everything feels so wonderful that he can almost forget how badly he’s going against his own word right now.

“You’re a good kisser, hyung,” Guanlin says, dragging his lips across Jihoon’s. “Can we do this again...?”

There’s so much loaded in that question. Jihoon leans back on his heels, looking over Guanlin’s flushed face. They’re fucked either way, honestly; with their feelings out in the open. Jihoon has a lot of self control, but not this much.

“Just kiss me,” Jihoon says in return, because that requires less thinking, and Guanlin catches his mouth again. Time ebbs away; Jihoon always feels like he’s in a daze when he’s around Guanlin. Whether it’s chatting, sitting in silence, performing, on TV, anything. Somehow, Guanlin’s presence eases it all.

Among everything that’s happened, he’s never been able to forget the reason why he started falling for Guanlin in the first place. Everything is just so easy around him, even the slow kisses they give each other on the couch.

Later, at dinner, Guanlin passes him timid smiles from across the table as they eat Jaehwan’s delicious noodles, and Jihoon thinks maybe this can be real after all.

 

 

“You’re welcome,” Daehwi says smugly, crossing his legs and looking like he expects Jihoon to say something like _thank you_.

Instead, he blinks. “What?” Jinyoung bursts out laughing at his deadpan reply.

Daehwi glares at him. “You’re welcome. You know, for helping you two get together.” He gestures towards Guanlin’s hand, which has been not-so-subtly playing with Jihoon’s hair for the past five minutes. When he’s called out, he retracts it hastily. They both blush. 

“How did you do that?” Jihoon is slightly offended. He’d like to think he and Guanlin put the most effort into this relationship.

“You guys were so obvious. I’ve spent the past month giving you guys opportunities to be alone together.” Daehwi huffs, but he’s hiding a smile. 

“They weren’t that obvious,” Woojin mumbles. “You’re just weird about these things.”

“I’m weird about these things? The only reason I even noticed them is because you and Hyeongseob hyung did the exact same—” Woojin slaps his hand over Daehwi’s mouth, his face growing as red as his hair used to be, and he starts talking quickly about how disrespectful Daehwi is to him. 

Jihoon laughs, leaning his cheek against Guanlin’s shoulder, and it sinks in then how good he feels right now. Not only because he’s performing everyday, living out his dream, but because Guanlin’s hand is wrapped around his waist just like he wanted and his breath is tickling Jihoon’s ear. 

“Hey,” Jihoon says softly, just enough so that Guanlin can hear.

“Hi.”

Jihoon glances up at him, then at the others, checking to see if they’re looking. They’re too engrossed in arguing about Woojin’s past relationships, though, to focus on them; and so Jihoon feels safe to press a kiss to Guanlin’s lips. 

“I like you,” Jihoon whispers. And more than anything, that’s what makes him feel good. Being able to say it out loud. He likes Guanlin, and Guanlin likes him back.

“I like you too, hyung,” Guanlin says. Jihoon can feel the heat radiating off his cheeks. He throws his arms around Guanlin’s shoulders, grinning, and peppers kisses all over his reddened face.

The movement seems to interrupt the other three’s conversation, because they make a chorus of noises ranging from a happy squeal (Daehwi) to a disgusted scoff (Jinyoung). “Gross,” Woojin groans.

“Shhh,” Daehwi hushes him. “Let them be happy.”

He is happy, happier than he ever thought was possible. And, looking into Guanlin’s twinkling eyes, he thinks they’re going to be happy for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written a kpop fanfic since 2013 but here i am. bd101 has ruined my life in so many ways. also i accidentally published this under the wrong pseud so im sry to the ppl who are subscribed to me and got an email notif for this lmao
> 
> please let me know in the comments if you liked the fic! ♡


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